


Power Play

by FullElven



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 09:18:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1505024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullElven/pseuds/FullElven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's easy to see that Dean calls the shots when they're all out on a hunt, but is the power dynamic still the same between he and Cas when left to their own devices in the bedroom?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power Play

To watch them interact on a hunt, or a date, one would never have guessed their bedroom dynamic. Cas always silently watching Dean, sidling up to be closer, Dean telling him exactly what he wanted done and how to do it. Sammy saw it day in day out, so did the rest of the world. That’s just how they were on hunts, Cas yielding to Dean’s expertise despite the fact that he was eons older than the hunter. It didn’t matter to him, because it was _his turf._

But in the bedroom, Dean could finally relax from the day. He hung up the keys to control just the moment he sat down the keys to the Impala, and Castiel happily took over.

Sammy once realized it when he had make a break on a case, and all too eagerly barged into Dean’s room in the bunker to find Castiel with a handful of Dean’s hair and Dean with a mouthful of Castiel’s… _well.._. He hadn’t given it a thought then, just apologizing and quickly leaving with promises he’d take care of the case himself, but driving down the quiet road alone, the images came flooding back against his will and caused his head to cant slightly from the confusion.

Dean Winchester was a willing sub, and Castiel couldn’t help but to admit he loved the way those soulful green eyes looked up at him, so eager to be told what to do, so eager to please. Eyes that said that no matter what he did, he’d see no wrong in it. See, for every bit of relaxation that Dean gained from relinquishing control, Cas gained his own relaxation from the open acceptance Dean offered him. There was never any expectation for him, just the two of them being as close as humanly possible.

So when Cas palmed both sides of Dean’s head in his hands, feeling the warm wetness of his mouth taking him in to the hilt and sucking along the complete length as he pulled back up, neither of them cared at all who saw it. Dean sat on his heels, hands behind his back, and let Castiel thrust into his face, making him take every inch of him whether he could or not.

Nor did Dean care when his hair was gripped and he was lead to the bed by that, directed to lay on his back while Cas took either of his legs and pinned them back by his head before he fucked him. Dean’s breathless moans echoed off the walls of his room, Castiel relatively quiet save for the occasional groan deep within his chest. He buried himself entirely and ground against that sensitive spot within Dean, watching as those green eyes closed away and he lost himself in a haze of pleasure.

It caused that fire within Castiel to burn ever brighter, that pressure to build, when Dean begged him with a whimper to _please_ , fuck him harder. A hand still in Dean’s hair, he forced his head back to expose his throat, letting him bite and suck along the tender flesh there while he thrust into him with enough force to cause a clap of their sweat-clad bodies slapping against one another.

Cas _loves_ the way Dean starts coming unglued when he get’s close to his climax. The way his eyes roll back behind fluttering lids, his head falling from one side to the other while he mutters incoherent things from bruised and swollen lips. The only tell-tale things that can be understood are the _please_ ’s and _oh fuck, oh God, fuck me_ ’s that leave the elder Winchester’s lips. Each one made Cas throb with need, knowing he couldn’t deny himself his own climax much longer.

He lets Dean’s legs down by that point, resting his weight on his forearms while he cradles Dean’s head within his palms as he continues thrusting within him. “Dean, open your eyes,” he directs, his voice rougher than usual with his need. Dean obeys, opening his eyes to lose himself within those heavenly blues of Castiel’s until it becomes an active fight to keep them open before his arousal begins to spasm between them, slicking his stomach with his seed. The way he pulses around Cas has him panting, but it always takes a minute or so more before the angel can finally reach his own orgasm while an overly-sensitive Dean whimpers and squirms beneath him.

That was it though, the end of their power play. With them both sated, Castiel gratefully returns control to Dean who cleans the both of them. Letting the angel curl into his chest, he soothingly runs fingers through Cas’s hair while Cas lazily traces the anti-possession tattoo on Dean’s chest with a calloused index finger. 


End file.
